Torn Wings and Broken Toys: An Innocence Lost
by EnchantedBlood
Summary: James wasn't home that night his wife was killed. A misguided logic leads him to blame Harry for her death...Warnings:suggested abuseslash later...


Harry? Harry? Hello Harry. Are you there?

Of course I'm here, where else would I be?

Sirius? Sirius? Are you there?

Not a chance, how could he be?

Remus? Remus? Are you there? Why won't you answer me?

Because, he's lost, he can't find his way back home.

Mum? Are you there? Are you there?

Always, my son, I'm in your heart.

Father…why do you find pleasure in my pain?

* * *

"Harry? Wake up. Come now, the sun is rising."

"Mum?"

His single question was met with silence before an ill-foreboding voice answered. "…No."

A jet of fear coursed through his veins. Footsteps faded away.

What if things had gone differently that night? What if James had been there? What if his mother had not? Would things still be the same? A father's hatred replaced by a mother's. Somehow he didn't think so. Somehow…it just wasn't conceivable. He truly believed that a mother's love could not be deterred. But apparently… a father's could.

Things had gone terribly wrong from the day he'd saved the known wizarding world…

James had been away that fateful day, 10 years ago. He'd been sent along with two others on a death eater raid. They'd learned about it at the last minute, so they'd had to rush along. James Potter hurriedly kissed his wife goodbye and placed a small kiss on his son's forehead, before assuring Lily he'd be back soon and not to wait up for him.

The raid was only to last an hour or two at the most. But that, was all it took. All… it had taken. Everything had seemed no different from any other occasion. In an out, that's all it was. Finish the job and hand the remaining death eater's over to the ministry's control. From there, they would take over and handle all the details. James was only a field agent at the moment; there were plenty of others to manage the paperwork, trials, and what not.

James had felt a slight unease all evening. Nothing to truly be concerned about, but still, he had this…feeling. He couldn't explain it, or what it was exactly about, but the fact was, he had it, and it _wasn't_ going away. His dread was steadily growing as the night progressed. He had already snapped at his partner three times, and his patience had been wearing thin. They had just dropped off their stunned charges at the ministry building when James got the most gut-wrenching feeling in his stomach. He dropped to his knees, his partner rushed towards him, trying to give him some sort of comfort, what was wrong he had asked. Abruptly James stood and began running, all logic lost. Something had happened! Something had happened to his wife! His child! His senses were on full alert and somewhere in the depths of his mind, reminded him to apparate. He didn't stop running, he whipped out his wand and apparated to Godric's Hollow…

The rest…was somewhat of a blur. A horrific…blur. Everything was so painfully clear, every detail. Yet at the same time, he could hardly remember what was happening. What had happened? How he'd…reacted. He remembered distinctly the feeling of blind panic as he came into view of his home, their home. It was…nothing more than a pile of ash and smoldering rubble. It didn't seem real, how could it be?

A faint eerie and greenish glow hovered around the perimeter, casting unearthly shadows. He'd stopped running. He walked slowly up the path, the faint sound of crunching gravel under his feet. He nearly tripped. He bent down to observe what it was; it was the scorched plastic of Harry's…bottle. That's when reality struck him, when he'd realized that this wasn't just some twisted nightmare, that it was really real, really happening.

Tears pricked at his eyes before he let them fall, felt like liquid fire. His breath hitched, he pushed his way through the ruins. Everything… was destroyed, but that hardly mattered. Where was his wife! His son! Where were they! Oh God please have spared them! Please! My Lily! Please! My Harry! He turned around, in circles, again and again. His agony sharpened, as he grew dizzy. He finally collapsed onto the ground; his hands shredded by the broken glass and fragments of old picture frames and furniture. He remembered a lot about that night, but the most distinct memory, was that of those green eyes, peering out at him from the shadows. An inexplicable rage shot through him. How _dare_ he! How _dare he? How dare he just sit there perfectly fine, while his mother..._ He couldn't finish the thought.

James' first and only love had been stolen from him that night; part of his soul had been shattered, and above all, the love of a father for his son was destroyed…indefinitely…

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_ _Please Review. I'm happy to reply..._


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